I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles
by Smickan
Summary: Complete. Part 3 of the series. Charlie's determined to do anything to keep Smithy. Even if it means she has to get her head around football.
1. Chapter 1

This is the funny light hearted one, based on football, cos well... I've written so many sad action packed ones lately, I need a giggle A little piece of humourous fluff that'll end up being 3ish chapters me thinks. Part Three of the series!

**I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles**

"So who's that?" Charlie frowned, pointing at the TV.

"That's the referee."

"Right…" She nodded, glancing back at her magazine, before looking back up. "Who's that?"

"Teddy Sherringham." Smithy gave an exasperated sigh, his hand falling inside the neckline of her top, gently cupping her breast.

Charlie shrugged, turned the page, before settling back against him. "Is it finished yet?"

"Charlie!" Smithy looked down, "Just another half an hour, yeah?" He leant forward and kissed her softly, if briefly, and turned his attention back to the TV.

Charlie chuckled as she dropped her magazine, turning a little to wrap her arm around Smithy's back, her free hand lightly stroking his stomach as she looked up, smiling to herself.

Most of the past month since the hostage situation in the front office had been spent flitting between the two homes, Smithy increasingly becoming part of the furniture at Charlie's as it was closer to the station, and "Isn't surrounded by dirty old men who's only life pleasure is to leer and grope as you pass on the way to the flat!". Smithy's argument that it had actually been him who groped, and the 'leerer' was actually 'Boss-Eyed Barry' who probably hadn't even been looking in Charlie's direction had gone ignored, and he'd given in after she threatened to cry and sulk, all whilst backing him towards the bedroom. A very convincing argument in Smithy's book…

She grinned as he winced as the opposing team almost scored, watching his reaction as he watched the match, obviously tuned out to everything else around him. She chuckled to herself, lightly ran the tip of one finger along his jaw, and snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes as she waited for the match to finish.

* * *

"What are you thinking about…?" Charlie lifted her head from the pillow as she rolled onto her front, watching Smithy undress. 

"Hmm?" Smithy looked up, undoing his trousers, before shrugging. "Cleaning products…"

"We both know that ain't true." Charlie laughed, opening her arms for him as he lifted the duvet, climbing in beside her, wrapping her arms around him.

Smithy smirked and ran his hand along her arm, dropping it to her hip. "Inspector Gold?"

"Should I be worried you're thinking about the Inspector before bed?" Charlie grinned, pressing her hips against his as he gently rolled her onto her back, crossing her arms around his neck as he moved over her, lowering his head to kiss her.

"You know better than to ask me that question by now." Smithy smirked, "It's either Bird-" He trailed off as Charlie pouted. "…You…"

"Better." Charlie smirked.

"..Or football, or West Ham...or the job." He shrugged.

Charlie grinned, and gently pulled him down against her, "If only life was that simple. "Which was it this time?"

Smithy smirked, and lifted the duvet over his head, looking inside, before grinning and pulling his head out. "Definitely West Ham." He said with a grin, before laughing and pinning Charlie's arms above her head as he pressed against her, stopping her from fighting him off.

* * *

"Sergeant." Charlie smirked as she passed Smithy, stopping in the doorway of the Inspectors Office. 

Smithy returned the smirk, looking over her shoulder into Gina's empty office. "What're you doing?"

"Delivering a parcel for the inspector." Charlie moved inside, placed the box she was holding on the desk, before turning smirking as Smithy blocked her exit. "Don't you have work to do?" She grinned, backing him out the door and through to his office.

"I am working." Smithy held his hands up. "I'm making sure you're working and not slacking off. As my job description details…"

"Does it also detail staring at my chest as you do it?"

Smithy nodded, lowering his gaze. "That's the perk of being a Sergeant…" He glanced back at his work, "Now sod off, I'm busy."

Charlie grinned and sat on the edge of his desk, "What are we doing tonight? You coming round after?"

"Probably." Smithy lifted his pen, frowning at the form in front of him.

"Why don't we go out for a meal?" Charlie tried, "Or go see a film?"

"Dunno…" Smithy glanced up, having his heart set on watching the match that was showing that night…

"You don't know what we're doing tonight, yet you know what West Ham are doing for months in advance."

Smithy half heartedly raised an eyebrow, "They produce a fixture list..." he sighed, his tone patronising.

"Well I can do that!" Charlie mimicked his tone, flicking his planner open. "Tonight, home or away?" She said, looking up with a smirk.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: I know zilch about football. But I do know a film that does. A couple of these quotes and explanations come from Fever Pitch, which kept gave me an excuse to watch it again, other than my usual of perving at a half naked Colin Firth. _

**I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles – Part 2**

"I might start supporting a team that never wins...Gillingham or something..."

"Oi!" Mickey scowled.

"Least you know where you stand, 'stead of screwing yourself over like this!" Smithy continued pacing, scratching his head as he looked at the TV. "We should be 8 nil down!"

"If you want to win a game 2-nil, I'd say you've got a better chance if its nil nil at half time, than if you're 8 down, don't you?"

"Might as well be 8-nil." Smithy muttered, scowling.

"Jesus Smiffy!" Mickey rolled his eyes. "You need medical help! You've got some sort of disease that turns people into miserable bastards."

Smithy scowled and dropped back down onto the settee, startling Charlie who'd fallen asleep in the excitement.

Charlie blinked round and frowned at Smithy, rubbing her eyes with both hands. "What's happening."

"Nil Nil." Mickey answered before Smithy could snap, "Any more booze?"

"Hmm?" Charlie yawned and gestured through at the kitchen. "Fridge." She mumbled, lifting her legs onto Smithy's lap. "Whassup with you now?"

Smithy scowled petulantly, "Nil nil."

"That's good isn't it?" Charlie blinked, "I thought you don't want them to lose?"

"I don't!" Smithy lifted his can and gulped a good third of it, before placing it back on the table in front of them, looking thoughtful. "But they're gonna…"

"For gods sake, Smiffy!" Mickey's head appeared around the door. "Do us all a favour and shut up!"

"You short arsed little-"

"_DALE!"_

* * *

Charlie smirked to herself from her vantage point in the corner of the settee, watching as Smithy's lips moved as he muttered obscenities under his breath at the television, his eyes glued to the screen as his brow furrowed in concentration. 

"Dale?" She tried, fighting to keep a straight face. "….Dale?"

Smithy's scowl deepened a little, but he kept staring at the TV.

"Dale…?"

"MmmmTV…"

Charlie chuckled, grinning to herself as she knelt up beside him, blowing gently in his ear.

Smithy reluctantly tore his gaze from the screen, moved his arm out so it was around Charlie's waist and pushed her back down against the settee. "Shh!"

Charlie's eyebrow raised and she folded her arms as she pouted, glaring at Smithy from under her fringe, before grinning as she saw her next victim, shuffling out of her chair, and over to Mickey's armchair. "Mick Mick…" she purred, sitting on the arm of the chair.

"TV." Mickey's eyes followed the ball, sipping from his can.

"Mickeeeeeey…." Charlie whined, poking his shoulder gently.

"TV."

"I'll cry…" Charlie let herself drop down onto his lap, pouting as she moved for his can.

"Cry…" Mickey shrugged, lifting the can out of reach.

Charlie concentrated hard, set her jaw and sniffled, attempting to force a tear out, frowning as she was ignored. She smirked, lifted her arms and started to undo the top button of her top, yelping as she was grabbed from behind and pulled off Mickey's lap.

* * *

"Can I move yet?" Charlie scowled, attempting to loosen Smithy's vice like grip on her arm. 

"It's nearly over." Smithy looked down, his expression still resembling thunder.

Charlie sighed and turned so she was sat against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she watched, gently stroking his arm. "It was just a joke…" She tried to reason.

Smithy's eyebrow almost reached his hairline and he glared as the final whistle sounded. "See!" He gestured at the screen with his free hand. "Reg Hollis could do better blindfolded."

Mickey smirked, idly scratching his chin. "That's a tenner you owe me."

"I said-"

"You said they'd win two nil. They drew…"

Smithy scowled and reached into his wallet, passing a note over. Mickey took it and frowned, running it over in his hands. "It's a fiver…."

"Charlie flashed, that makes up the difference."

"That was hardly a flash!" Mickey protested. "She didn't even get her button un-." He trailed off on seeing Smithy's expression, pocketing the note. "I better get off….."

* * *

"No, you ignored me!" 

"So that's a reason to flash your ex?"

"He's not my ex!" Charlie pulled away, sighing. "It was a joke, Smithy. I know it wasn't very funny, and I'm sorry…" She stood in front of him, one hand cupping his face. "Dale…" She said softly. "I don't need to flirt with anyone else…" she smiled slightly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. "I've got what I want. I love _you_."

Smithy blinked, did a double take and tilted his head a little. "….What?"

Charlie flushed and looked down, swallowing hard. "…Nothing." She said quietly, inwardly cringing.

A smirk tugged at Smithy's lips and he tilted her head up with one hand, brushing a tendril of hair back behind her ear. He scanned her face with his eyes, smiling a little, before leaning in and kissing her. "Love you too." He whispered into the kiss.

Charlie squeaked and giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist as she returned the kiss lovingly, beaming broadly as they separated. "Will you teach me about football?"

"I don't think we've got enough time." Smithy chuckled, looking amused. "Least not before the next home game…"

"Well…" Charlie batted her eyelids and grinned at him. "You could always take me…"

* * *

"You're going to the football?" Amber smirked. "...You?" 

"Yes me!" Charlie rolled her eyes, "Is there a problem with that?"

"You're being colonised!" Leela smirked.

"It's all a sinister form of male manipulation." Sheelagh added with a chuckle.

"Rubbish!"

Leela smirked again, "It's true! You get colonized! Your native culture gets driven out, and it's replaced by stuff that you don't like and don't even want to know about."

Charlie frowned. "I asked him to take me…"

"See, that's what they want." Amber sniggered into her drink. "They want you to think that you want to go…"

"'Cos then, when you go on about him ignoring you over football, he can say that he tried to get you interested." Sheelagh added helpfully.

"He's not like that!" Charlie protested.

"He's male, isn't he?" Leela smirking knowingly.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles – Part 3**

Mickey shrugged, barely stifling a yawn. "He had a trial with Orient...turned them down, said it was too risky."

"Oh…" Smithy turned his head, looking back out over the field. "What's he do now?"

"Owns his own business...computer something...he's on 50 grand a year…"

Smithy nodded, pushing his hands into his pockets. "I'd swap 50 grand a year for a contract with Orient..." He said after a pause.

"So would I..."

"And I don't even like Orient..." Smithy frowned as the striker he'd been watching failed to score a goal. "...He has it all, gets 50 grand a month and gets to play at a place with floodlights..."

"Floodlights and a teabar." Mickey nodded, looking impressed. "I'd love to play at a place with a teabar!"

"What are you two talking about?" Charlie rubbed her arms to warm herself up, resting against Smithy's chest as he pulled her closer, wrapping his jacket around the pair of them. "S'sodding freezing."

Mickey shrugged, idly scratching the side of his head. "Football." He said, his voice monotone.

"That interesting, huh?" Charlie smirked, closing her eyes as she breathed in the scent of Smithy's aftershave, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Smithy dropped his hand to Charlie's back, watching the ball. "'Bout as crap as Gillingham."

"Oi!"

Smithy just smirked, kissing Charlie's forehead as he looked down. "You that bored?"

"Mmm…" Charlie smiled faintly, her eyes still closed.

"What happened to coming to a match with me?" Smithy smirked, his smirk increasing as Mickey glanced up, looking amused.

"You?" Mickey grinned. "Football?"

"Hey!" Charlie turned her head to look at Mickey, scowling. "I can do football…"

"And I can do ballet!" Mickey snorted.

"I dunno…" Charlie grinned, looking down. "You've got the legs for a tutu." She chuckled, digging Smithy's side gently as he snorted.

Mickey rolled his eyes and turned his head to look back out at the pitch. "Simple things, simple minds…"

"And bigger fools will watch." She grinned, turning her attention back to Smithy. "Does that mean you're taking me this weekend?" she asked, batting her eyes playfully.

"Now hang on a minute…" Smithy frowned lightly. "It's West Ham vers-"

"All the better to talk me." Charlie pouted softly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

"How come you're so adamant you want to go?" Mickey chuckled. "You'll hate it, Chaz."

"Nothing wrong in taking an interest." She shrugged, before beaming up at Smithy. "That's settled then!" She smiled, heading off in the direction of the teabar.

"Under the thumb already, mate!" Mickey laughed, attempting to look innocent as Smithy glared at him.

* * *

"I thought you said you'd look after me!" Charlie wrinkled her nose, glaring at the man stood next to her as he winked at her. 

"You said you didn't need looking after!"

"I don't!" She scowled, grabbing his arm as she settled herself.

"You'll get used to it!"

"To being leered over?" Charlie said dryly, yelping as someone behind her pinched her bum. "Smithy! Stop laughing!"

Smithy wrapped his arm around her as they made their way to the stands, watching Charlie's eyes flit round, taking in the sights around her.

"Where're we going?" Charlie asked, her arm slipping around Smithy's back as she peered at the ticket in her hand.

"To find our seats. Doc Marten stand…"

"They named it after a shoe!" Charlie grinned, wondering if this meant football wasn't so bad after all….

Smithy just rolled his eyes and took her hand, leading her along to their seats behind him. Charlie looked around her, blinking as Smithy's scarf was pushed around her neck. "What's this?" she asked, picking at the ends of the claret coloured scarf.

"Might as well look the part..." Smithy smirked, looking amused as Charlie tied it around her midriff, resting her hands on her hips.

"Will I do?" She asked, smirking and rolling her eyes as Smithy's hand rested on her backside. "Pervert…"

"You could have worn my spare shirt."

"It buried me!" She protested. "And didn't suit my trousers." She looked up and rested her hand on his chest, stroking his stomach lightly. "And it looks much better on you…" she purred.

Smithy caught her hand and turned her to look at the ground. "They're training…"

Charlie's eyes widened as Anton Ferdinand bent over to stretch and glanced up, smirking. "I like football…"

Smithy followed her line of sight before rolling his eyes and looking down at her. "Now who's the pervert?"

Charlie just beamed and wrinkled her nose a little before clapping with the others as the teams finished warming up, at least _trying_ to look like she knew what was happening.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles – Part 4**

"Is this it?" Charlie fidgeted with the scarf around her waist, plating the tassels at the end. "They just kick a ball around a muddy field and swear at each other, and we clap and call the other team tossers?"

"Pretty much." Smithy murmured, his eyes trained on the ball.

"What's the point in that?"

"Teamwork, achievement, morale…" Smithy frowned, wincing as Teddy Sheringham failed to score.

"But all we're doing is getting cold…" Charlie pouted and attempted to wrap her arms around Smithy's waist, blinking as he continued following the ball, seemingly oblivious to her. "Dale?" She frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Dale!"

"Mmm, lovely." Smithy managed to say, completely absorbed in the game, before muttering obscenities as another player was tackled.

Charlie scowled and sat down, pulling her phone out as she flicked through the numbers, crossing her arms across her chest as she waited for the game to finish.

* * *

"Is that it?" 

"…Oooh West Ham, we love you, Oi oi oi!"

"Amazing." Charlie muttered to herself, "Saturday, the one day a week Sgt Dale Smith turns into a hooligan."

"I heard that…" Smithy smirked, sitting back beside her with a grin, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair.

"Has it finished, yet?" Charlie pouted, crossing her legs as she turned slightly in her seat, resting back against him as she turned her head up to kiss him.

Smithy chuckled and shook his head, squeezing her hands as her fingers linked through his, "Still another 45 minutes." He told her through kisses, "Half time…"

Charlie pouted again, but nodded submissively, yawning. "You wining now?"

Smithy shook his head and frowned, "Some good chances though, hopefully they can forge…" Charlie's eyes glazed over slightly and she nodded occasionally, tuning out as Smithy explained what had happened, and 'how the useless shower of tossers had to turn it around in the second half if they stood a chance of ever sodding getting out of the league.'

"Dale?"

"Charlie." Smithy looked down, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"You do like West Ham don't you?"

Smithy snorted, "If you're going to ask me something, at least make it not obvious, you know I do…"

"Well, yeah…" Charlie shifted slightly and idly stroked his hand, brushing her thumb against his palm. "So why do you insult them if you like them?"

"Well er.." Smithy paused for a moment, "It's like…" He frowned. "It's affectionate…"

"Affectionate how?" Charlie frowned, looking up at him. "I insult people and certainly don't mean it affectionately…" she said, thinking of Kerry.

"It's different."

"How?"

"It just is!"

* * *

"And it's West Ham Uniteeeed, West Ham United F.Ceee, We're by far the greatest team The world has ever seen!" 

"Don't give up the day job, babe." Charlie stood up as the final whistle blew, deafened by the cheer from the crowd around them, smiling to herself as she watched Smithy grin, clap and cheer with the rest of them, chuckling as she saw the complete change in him, watching his eyes sparkle, his mouth open as he cheered and clapped the team, eventually calming as the crowds started to drift back to the car.

"What?" He asked softly, seeing the way she was looking at him.

Charlie shook her head and moved closer, grinning. "Love you." She chuckled, lightly running a finger over his cheek.

"Enough to come to the football with me again?" Smithy grinned, leading her out the stand and along towards the exit.

Charlie wrinkled her nose. "It's because I do, I won't come again…" She grinned.

"Probably best…" Smithy smiled, pulling her into the queue of the first fast food cart they reached once outside the ground, wrapping his arms around her as she wrapped her arms around the neck. "Love you too." He smiled softly, glaring at the group of lads behind them who took it upon themselves to make 'funny' sound effects.

"Smithy…" Charlie purred softly in his ear, rubbing his arms as she felt him tense, gently tilting her head up to kiss him, sticking two fingers up at the lads, before separating for air, snuggling into Smithy's side as they waited their turn.

* * *

"Mind you with Tomas it's not for the want of trying. He seems to be getting a shot in each week… it's just going to be a race to see if he can actually get on the scoresheet before he goes at the end of the season" 

"I disagree." Charlie shook her head, linking her arm through Smithy's as she finished her burger, heading back towards the car.

"You do do you?" A smirk flicked across Smithy's lips. "One footie match and you're Alan Pardrew." He grinned, throwing the rubbish into the nearest bin.

Charlie grinned and looked smug, before looking up. "...Who?"

Smithy chuckled and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to his chest as he kissed her forehead. "West Ham's manager." He chuckled.


End file.
